A rose. My favorite flower. I mean yeah it smells nice and looks pretty but there's more to it.
It's a beautiful flower. The rich pigmentation of color in crimson reds, bubble gum pinks, sunglow yellows, and lavender purples in the petals and strong sweet scent when it's in full bloom is what makes it so attractive, but the thorns are the flaw. But they are what make it so appealing to me.
A delicate flower with sharp thorns. Even beautiful things have their imperfections. Flaws intrigue me because they bring contradictions. Contradictions lead to connections.
Why does one thing have the other even though the two don't suit each other?
Well, there's a reason why. It could be an obvious, hidden, or none at all. It is what it is and sometimes you have to accept that.
I think it's wonderful that beauty has its imperfections because there's no such thing as perfect. I'm not perfect. You're not perfect. Everyone around you isn't perfect. It isn't possible unless if you're some god-like figure which no one is. Even if something seems so perfect, there must be a hidden fault somewhere. Because unless if you're God, there must be a tragic fault that makes you human like everyone else on this planet.
I love black roses. It looks like death but it's actually a living thing. See? Two different things are connected as one. Contradictions are fascinating.
It's a beautiful flower. The rich pigmentation of color in crimson reds, bubble gum pinks, sunglow yellows, and lavender purples in the petals and strong sweet scent when it's in full bloom is what makes it so attractive, but the thorns are the flaw. But they are what make it so appealing to me.
A delicate flower with sharp thorns. Even beautiful things have their imperfections. Flaws intrigue me because they bring contradictions. Contradictions lead to connections.
Why does one thing have the other even though the two don't suit each other?
Well, there's a reason why. It could be an obvious, hidden, or none at all. It is what it is and sometimes you have to accept that.
I think it's wonderful that beauty has its imperfections because there's no such thing as perfect. I'm not perfect. You're not perfect. Everyone around you isn't perfect. It isn't possible unless if you're some god-like figure which no one is. Even if something seems so perfect, there must be a hidden fault somewhere. Because unless if you're God, there must be a tragic fault that makes you human like everyone else on this planet.
I love black roses. It looks like death but it's actually a living thing. See? Two different things are connected as one. Contradictions are fascinating.
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